The House of the Wolfings Part 3

So Thiodolf stood on the top of the bent beside that same mound wherefrom he had blown the War-horn yester-eve, and which was called the Hill of Speech, and he shaded his eyes with his hand and looked around him; and even therewith the carles fell to yoking the beasts to the belated wains, and the warriors gathered together from out of the mixed throngs, and came from the Roof and the Man's-door and all set their faces toward the Hill of Speech.

So Thiodolf knew that all was ready for departure, and it wanted but an hour of high-noon; so he turned about and went into the Hall, and there found his shield and his spear hanging in his sleeping place beside the hauberk he was wont to wear; then he looked, as one striving with thought, at his empty hauberk and his own body covered with the dwarf- wrought rings; nor did his face change as he took his shield and his spear and turned away. Then he went to the dais and there sat his foster- daughter (as men deemed her) sitting amidst of it as yester-eve, and now arrayed in a garment of fine white wool, on the breast whereof were wrought in gold two beasts ramping up against a fire-altar whereon a flame flickered; and on the skirts and the hems were other devices, of wolves chasing deer, and men shooting with the bow; and that garment was an ancient treasure; but she had a broad girdle of gold and gems about her middle, and on her arms and neck she wore great gold rings wrought delicately. By then there were few save the Hall-Sun under the Roof, and they but the oldest of the women, or a few very old men, and some who were ailing and might not go abroad. But before her on the thwart table lay the Great War-horn awaiting the coming of Thiodolf to give signal of departure.

Then went Thiodolf to the Hall-Sun and kissed and embraced her fondly, and she gave the horn into his hands, and he went forth and up on to the Hill of Speech, and blew thence a short blast on the horn, and then came all the Warriors flocking to the Hill of Speech, each man stark in his harness, alert and joyous.

Then presently through the Man's-door came the Hall-Sun in that ancient garment, which fell straight and stiff down to her ancles as she stepped lightly and slowly along, her head crowned with a garland of eglantine.

In her right hand also she held a great torch of wax lighted, whose flame amidst the bright sunlight looked like a wavering leaf of vermilion.

The warriors saw her, and made a lane for her, and she made her way through it up to the Hill of Speech, and she went up to the top of it and stood there holding the lighted candle in her hand, so that all might see it. Then suddenly was there as great a silence as there may be on a forenoon of summer; for even the thralls down in the meadow had noted what was toward, and ceased their talking and shouting, for as far off as they were, since they could see that the Hall-Sun stood on the Hill of Speech, for the wood was dark behind her; so they knew the Farewell Flame was lighted, and that the maiden would speak; and to all men her speech was a boding of good or of ill.

So she began in a sweet voice yet clear and far-reaching:

"O Warriors of the Wolfings by the token of the flame That here in my right hand flickers, come aback to the House of the Name!

For there yet burneth the Hall-Sun beneath the Wolfing roof, And this flame is litten from it, nor as now shall it fare aloof Till again it seeth the mighty and the men to be gleaned from the fight.

So wend ye as weird willeth and let your hearts be light; For through your days of battle all the deeds of our days shall be fair.

To-morrow beginneth the haysel, as if every carle were here; And who knoweth ere your returning but the hook shall smite the corn?

But the kine shall go down to the meadow as their wont is every morn, And each eve shall come back to the byre; and the mares and foals afield Shall ever be heeded duly; and all things shall their increase yield.

And if it shall befal us that hither cometh a foe Here have we swains of the shepherds good players with the bow, And old men battle-crafty whose might is nowise spent, And women fell and fearless well wont to tread the bent Amid the sheep and the oxen; and their hands are hard with the spear And their arms are strong and stalwart the battle shield to bear; And store of weapons have we and the mighty walls of the stead; And the Roof shall abide you steadfast with the Hall-Sun overhead.

Lo here I quench this candle that is lit from the Hall-Sun's flame Which unto the Wild-wood clearing with the kin of the Wolfings came And shall wend with their departure to the limits of the earth; Nor again shall the torch be lighted till in sorrow or in mirth, Overthrown or overthrowing, ye come aback once more, And bid me bear the candle before the Wolf of War."

As she spake the word she turned the candle downward, and thrust it against the gra.s.s and quenched it indeed; but the whole throng of warriors turned about, for the bulls of the banner-wain lowered their heads in the yokes and began to draw, lowing mightily; and the wain creaked and moved on, and all the men-at-arms followed after, and down they went through the lanes of the corn, and a many women and children and old men went down into the mead with them.

In their hearts they all wondered what the Hall-Sun's words might signify; for she had told them nought about the battles to be, saving that some should come back to the Mid-mark; whereas aforetime somewhat would she foretell to them concerning the fortune of the fight, and now had she said to them nothing but what their own hearts told them.

Nevertheless they bore their crests high as they followed the Wolf down into the meadow, where all was now ready for departure. There they arrayed themselves and went down to the lip of Mirkwood-water; and such was their array that the banner went first, save that a band of fully armed men went before it; and behind it and about were the others as well arrayed as they. Then went the wains that bore their munition, with armed carles of the thrall-folk about them, who were ever the guard of the wains, and should never leave them night or day; and lastly went the great band of the warriors and the rest of the thralls with them.

As to their war-gear, all the freemen had helms of some kind, but not all of iron or steel; for some bore helms fashioned of horse-hide and bull- hide covered over with the similitude of a Wolf's muzzle; nor were these ill-defence against a sword-stroke. Shields they all had, and all these had the image of the Wolf marked on them, but for many their thralls bore them on the journey. As to their body-armour some carried long byrnies of ring-mail, some coats of leather covered with splinters of horn laid like the shingles of a roof, and some skin-coats only: whereof indeed there were some of which tales went that they were better than the smith's hammer-work, because they had had spells sung over them to keep out steel or iron.

But for their weapons, they bore spears with shafts not very long, some eight feet of our measure; and axes heavy and long-shafted; and bills with great and broad heads; and some few, but not many of the kindred were bowmen, and every freeman was girt with a sword; but of the swords some were long and two-edged, some short and heavy, cutting on one edge, and these were of the kind which they and our forefathers long after called 'sax.' Thus were the freemen arrayed.

But for the thralls, there were many bows among them, especially among those who were of blood alien from the Goths; the others bore short spears, and feathered broad arrows, and clubs bound with iron, and knives and axes, but not every man of them had a sword. Few iron helms they had and no ringed byrnies, but most had a buckler at their backs with no sign or symbol on it.

Thus then set forth the fighting men of the House of the Wolf toward the Thing-stead of the Upper-mark where the hosting was to be, and by then they were moving up along the side of Mirkwood-water it was somewhat past high-noon.

But the stay-at-home people who had come down with them to the meadow lingered long in that place; and much foreboding there was among them of evil to come; and of the old folk, some remembered tales of the past days of the Markmen, and how they had come from the ends of the earth, and the mountains where none dwell now but the G.o.ds of their kindreds; and many of these tales told of their woes and their wars as they went from river to river and from wild-wood to wild-wood before they had established their Houses in the Mark, and fallen to dwelling there season by season and year by year whether the days were good or ill. And it fell into their hearts that now at last mayhappen was their abiding wearing out to an end, and that the day should soon be when they should have to bear the Hall-Sun through the wild-wood, and seek a new dwelling-place afar from the troubling of these newly arisen Welsh foemen.

And so those of them who could not rid themselves of this foreboding were somewhat heavier of heart than their wont was when the House went to the War. For long had they abided there in the Mark, and the life was sweet to them which they knew, and the life which they knew not was bitter to them: and Mirkwood-water was become as a G.o.d to them no less than to their fathers of old time; nor lesser was the mead where fed the horses that they loved and the kine that they had reared, and the sheep that they guarded from the Wolf of the Wild-wood: and they worshipped the kind acres which they themselves and their fathers had made fruitful, wedding them to the seasons of seed-time and harvest, that the birth that came from them might become a part of the kindred of the Wolf, and the joy and might of past springs and summers might run in the blood of the Wolfing children. And a dear G.o.d indeed to them was the Roof of the Kindred, that their fathers had built and that they yet warded against the fire and the lightening and the wind and the snow, and the pa.s.sing of the days that devour and the years that heap the dust over the work of men. They thought of how it had stood, and seen so many generations of men come and go; how often it had welcomed the new-born babe, and given farewell to the old man: how many secrets of the past it knew; how many tales which men of the present had forgotten, but which yet mayhap men of times to come should learn of it; for to them yet living it had spoken time and again, and had told them what their fathers had not told them, and it held the memories of the generations and the very life of the Wolfings and their hopes for the days to be.

Thus these poor people thought of the G.o.ds whom they worshipped, and the friends whom they loved, and could not choose but be heavy-hearted when they thought that the wild-wood was awaiting them to swallow all up, and take away from them their G.o.ds and their friends and the mirth of their life, and burden them with hunger and thirst and weariness, that their children might begin once more to build the House and establish the dwelling, and call new places by old names, and worship new G.o.ds with the ancient worship.

Such imaginations of trouble then were in the hearts of the stay-at-homes of the Wolfings; the tale tells not indeed that all had such forebodings, but chiefly the old folk who were nursing the end of their life-days amidst the cherishing Kindred of the House.

But now they were beginning to turn them back again to the habitations, and a thin stream was flowing through the acres, when they heard a confused sound drawing near blended of horns and the lowing of beasts and the shouting of men; and they looked and saw a throng of brightly clad men coming up stream alongside of Mirkwood-water; and they were not afraid, for they knew that it must be some other company of the Markmen journeying to the hosting of the Folk: and presently they saw that it was the House of the Beamings following their banner on the way to the Thing- stead. But when the new-comers saw the throng out in the meads, some of their young men p.r.i.c.ked on their horses and galloped on past the women and old men, to whom they threw a greeting, as they ran past to catch up with the bands of the Wolfings; for between the two houses was there affinity, and much good liking lay between them; and the stay-at-homes, many of them, lingered yet till the main body of the Beamings came with their banner: and their array was much like to that of the Wolfings, but gayer; for whereas it pleased the latter to darken all their war-gear to the colour of the grey Wolf, the Beamings polished all their gear as bright as might be, and their raiment also was mostly bright green of hue and much beflowered; and the sign on their banner was a green leafy tree, and the wain was drawn by great white bulls.

So when their company drew anear to the throng of the stay-at-homes they went to meet and greet each other, and tell tidings to each other; but their banner held steadily onward amidst their converse, and in a little while they followed it, for the way was long to the Thing-stead of the Upper-mark.

So pa.s.sed away the fighting men by the side of Mirkwood-water, and the throng of the stay-at-homes melted slowly from the meadow and trickled along through the acres to the habitations of the Wolfings, and there they fell to doing whatso of work or play came to their hands.

CHAPTER V--CONCERNING THE HALL-SUN

When the warriors and the others had gone down to the mead, the Hall-Sun was left standing on the Hill of Speech, and she stood there till she saw the host in due array going on its ways dark and bright and beautiful; then she made as if to turn aback to the Great Roof; but all at once it seemed to her as if something held her back, as if her will to move had departed from her, and that she could not put one foot before the other.

So she lingered on the Hill, and the quenched candle fell from her hand, and presently she sank adown on the gra.s.s and sat there with the face of one thinking intently. Yet was it with her that a thousand thoughts were in her mind at once and no one of them uppermost, and images of what had been and what then was flickered about in her brain, and betwixt them were engendered images of things to be, but unstable and not to be trowed in. So sat the Hall-Sun on the Hill of Speech lost in a dream of the day, whose stories were as little clear as those of a night-dream.

But as she sat musing thus, came to her a woman exceeding old to look on, whom she knew not as one of the kindred or a thrall; and this carline greeted her by the name of Hall-Sun and said:

"Hail, Hall-Sun of the Markmen! how fares it now with thee When the whelps of the Woodbeast wander with the Leaf.a.ge of the Tree All up the Mirkwood-water to seek what they shall find, The oak-boles of the battle and the war-wood stark and blind?"

Then answered the maiden:

"It fares with me, O mother, that my soul would fain go forth To behold the ways of the battle, and the praise of the warriors'

worth.

But yet is it held entangled in a maze of many a thing, As the low-grown bramble holdeth the brake-shoots of the Spring.

I think of the thing that hath been, but no shape is in my thought; I think of the day that pa.s.seth, and its story comes to nought.

I think of the days that shall be, nor shape I any tale.

I will hearken thee, O mother, if hearkening may avail."

The Carline gazed at her with dark eyes that shone brightly from amidst her brown wrinkled face: then she sat herself down beside her and spake:

"From a far folk have I wandered and I come of an alien blood, But I know all tales of the Wolfings and their evil and their good; And when I heard of thy fairness, thereof I heard it said, That for thee should be never a bridal nor a place in the warrior's bed."

The maiden neither reddened nor paled, but looking with calm steady eyes into the Carline's face she answered:

"Yea true it is, I am wedded to the mighty ones of old, And the fathers of the Wolfings ere the days of field and fold."

Then a smile came into the eyes of the old woman and she said.

"How glad shall be thy mother of thy worship and thy worth, And the father that begat thee if yet they dwell on earth!"

But the Hall-Sun answered in the same steady manner as before:

"None knoweth who is my mother, nor my very father's name; But when to the House of the Wolfings a wild-wood waif I came, They gave me a foster-mother an ancient dame and good, And a glorious foster-father the best of all the blood."

Spake the Carline.

"Yea, I have heard the story, but scarce therein might I trow That thou with all thy beauty wert born 'neath the oaken bough, And hast crawled a naked baby o'er the rain-drenched autumn-gra.s.s; Wilt thou tell the wandering woman what wise it cometh to pa.s.s That thou art the Mid-mark's Hall-Sun, and the sign of the Wolfings'

gain?

Thou shalt pleasure me much by the telling, and there of shalt thou be fain."

Then answered the Hall-Sun.

"Yea; thus much I remember for the first of my memories; That I lay on the gra.s.s in the morning and above were the boughs of the trees.

But nought naked was I as the wood-whelp, but clad in linen white, And adown the glades of the oakwood the morning sun lay bright.

Then a hind came out of the thicket and stood on the sunlit glade, And turned her head toward the oak tree and a step on toward me made.

Then stopped, and bounded aback, and away as if in fear, That I saw her no more; then I wondered, though sitting close anear Was a she-wolf great and grisly. But with her was I wont to play, And pull her ears, and belabour her rugged sides and grey, And hold her jaws together, while she whimpered, s...o...b..ring For the love of my love; and nowise I deemed her a fearsome thing.

There she sat as though she were watching, and o'er head a blue-winged jay Shrieked out from the topmost oak-twigs, and a squirrel ran his way Two tree-trunks off. But the she-wolf arose up suddenly And growled with her neck-fell bristling, as if danger drew anigh; And therewith I heard a footstep, for nice was my ear to catch All the noises of the wild-wood; so there did we sit at watch While the sound of feet grew nigher: then I clapped hand on hand And crowed for joy and gladness, for there out in the sun did stand A man, a glorious creature with a gleaming helm on his head, And gold rings on his arms, in raiment gold-broidered crimson-red.